


In Which Elmer Continues to Make Terrible Jokes Anyway

by yonnna



Category: Baccano!
Genre: AU where nothing bad is currently happening for a lil while, Multi, fluff and attempted stabbing, i say this is ot4 stuff but mostly it's just friendship, the universal human emotion: elmer stop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-15
Updated: 2017-02-15
Packaged: 2018-09-24 16:37:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9770669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yonnna/pseuds/yonnna
Summary: Elmer, Niki, and Huey spend a relaxing afternoon at Monica's house.Written in response to the prompt "If you make one more stupid pun I will literally stab you" + Mask Maker ot4.





	

“I don’t trust these stairs.”

An uneasy _creak_  sounds as her foot pulls away from the first step. She studies it for a moment, all furrowed brow and narrowed eyes; its faded, splintered wood, the chipping paint of its banister rail. The staircase is old — that’s the way of this city, all things either strikingly modern or ancient — but when she put her weight on it it seemed to support her, and the patisserie owner didn’t mention any reason to use caution when they asked to go up. She recalls her welcoming smile, and turns to him with her mouth drawn into a thin line. 

“What are you talking about?” 

His lower lip trembles when he answers: 

“They’re always _up_  to something.” 

Then he is lost to laughter, or at least _tries_  to lose himself in it. It’s the usual contradiction, uproarious yet hollow, somehow synthetic in spite of being the most natural sound he can create. Niki would imitate it if she could, but her vocal chords are a different instrument entirely; these notes would spill out of tune from her throat, lacking the necessary range — of emotion, of tone. She sighs instead. 

“No, that’s just _you_ , Elmer.” 

Her fingers furl into the fabric of his sleeve and she tugs, only once. 

“I don’t mind your jokes, but I think Huey and Monica will be annoyed if you let those go cold,” she says, gesturing with a nod to the tray in his hands. He doesn’t follow her gaze, or her suggestion. 

“You just _don’t mind_  them? C’mon.” He grins. “You like my jokes, really. Admit it — you want to smile!”

 _Want_  has nothing to do with it, she thinks; if being joyous were as simple as wanting to be, everyone in the world would smile as much as he does — but maybe that’s his point. She moves to lift the tray out of his hands. 

“I told you, I don’t have a problem with them.”

“You  _like_  them.”

Her back is turned on him by the time she responds, already climbing the stairs. 

“They’re better than anything I could come up with.”

“You should laugh, then!”

Her footsteps are joined shortly by another, louder set. She shakes her head. 

“It’s not that easy.”

“How about a smile?”

She pauses at the threshold of the second floor, looking back at him with a deadpan expression, until she resigns to this small request, until her lips lift just slightly at the edges. 

“See, that’s great!”

“If you say so.”

 

* * *

 

 

Niki is about to ask whether they should knock, but Elmer has already decided they don’t _need_  to.

Monica’s room is bright and airy, windows swung open to let in the sunlight and the cool air. The breeze riffles through scattered books, sending pages fluttering, covers opening and closing. When he shoves the door open a rush of wind knocks over a small stack of journals, and someone  _yelps_ , though not for that reason. 

“Hey, Monimoni, we brought you some —”

“I told you to _knock_!” 

“It’s fine, we were only discussing business.” 

A statement which, from their flush of their faces and the urgency of their untangling hands, is decidedly untrue. Huey gets to his feet for good measure, taking a few steps away from Monica’s bed to lean against the wall, arms folded; regaining his composure by fractions, but not sooner than Elmer can chime in. 

“The business of _looove_?” 

Monica tucks a strand of hair behind her ear and exchanges a glance with Huey, turning beet red. Niki pushes past Elmer with a light shove and sets the tray down on her desk. 

“Stop being rude,” she chides, folding her arms over her chest. “Sorry if the tea’s cold. Elmer wouldn’t stop talking.” 

He perks up, suddenly recalling —

“That reminds me! Did you hear about that guy who got his left side chopped off?” 

Huey arches an eyebrow, and Monica opens her mouth in question. _A murder_? A fight, more likely. Lotto Valentino is a city very much at war with itself, and such things are not _un_ heard of. While they wonder at the relevance, Niki only sighs.

“Don’t look so worried! He’s all _right_  now.”

She sits down on the bed beside Monica, handing her a cup.

“… Sorry.”

Monica smiles at her, then turns her attention back to Elmer and purses her lips. 

“I’m not going to laugh at any of your jokes until you apologise for barging in like that,” she says in a huff of breath. 

“You’re still mad about that?” he responds, _still_  emphasised as though the event had occurred years, and not mere minutes, ago. He rubs the back of his neck. “Geez, I was gonna tell you one about science, but I guess that won’t get a  _reaction_.”

There’s a soft  _thud_  as the back of Huey’s head meets the wall, wry smile tugging at his lips. 

“Honestly, for one who prides himself on making others happy, your sense of humour is _atrocious_.” 

“I said _apologise_ ,” Monica repeats. “You’re annoying Huey now, too.”

“When _isn’t_  he?” he remarks bitterly, wandering over to the desk to idly dip his fingertip in the tea — lukewarm as he expected. He decides against it. “Sometimes I think it may be his raison d’être.”

Neither the woman who made the statement nor the man it was directed at actually listen to Huey’s commentary. 

“Have you heard the one about —”

Monica presses her teacup back into Niki’s hand.

There is a rustling of fabric, and then Elmer is pinned to the door, stiletto a hair’s breath away from his throat. 

“Elmer C. Albatross.” Her words come slow and deliberate now, petty ire lost in her complete calm. “If you make one more stupid pun I will literally stab you.”

“…Well-put,” Huey mutters.

Elmer smiles.

“You were being serious, huh? Okay! Then I apologise.”

She furrows her brow. 

“For barging in?”

“Yep!”

“And it won’t happen again?”

“Nope!”

“… Okay.”

The stiletto clatters to floor, joining a smattering of alchemy books and unnameable artifacts. Monica settles back onto her bed, satisfied smile lighting her features. 

“I liked the one about science,” she says after a moment. “That was really funny.”

She looks to Niki for confirmation, and she gives a small nod. 

“I guess so.”

“A _reaction_ ,” Monica repeats, a soft giggle escaping her lips. “Did you come up with that yourself, Elmer?”

“Actually, one of the other guys from school told me that one,” he admits. “But I have a few _I_  made up, if you want to hear them!”

“That won’t be necessary.”

“If you want to.”

“That’d be fun!”

Huey furrows his brow, sinking into the chair beside the desk with a sigh. 

“What happened to ‘stop annoying Huey’?”

“Oh, Huey, you’re not really annoyed, are you?” 

“I saw you smile! You definitely smiled.” 

“I did no such thing.”

“Anyway, there’s this one about —”


End file.
